It's a strange criticism, but the directness of Carl Miller's dialogue
is sometimes monotonous. Grammatical directness, that is – few subordinate
clauses, no lengthy periods; he writes as people talk. He applies the same
sensibility to his dramatic writing with invigorating frankness: breaking
taboos of wording and notion casually but insistently, to considered effect
rather than for shock value. Its tale of a group of teenagers in 1977 and
the enormous journeys they've made and continue making in 1991 is given
a straightforward, unadorned treatment by David Benedict and his cast –
listing toward portentousness in a series of 90-second meditations on mortality,
but mostly adhering to the view that "Life's too short for metaphors."
Eroticism is neither underplayed nor placed on a soapbox. It's a production
which manages to take its subject matter – issues, yes, but primarily people
– both seriously and joyously.